Megalomania and the Science of Deduction
by TheBigCat
Summary: In which Clancy and Ruby do some hardcore analysis on the people around them, plan their futures, and are generally snarky and awesome together.
**A/N: This was written for a number of reasons. I wanted to write more for this fandom. I needed to practice writing deductions (I'm working on a BBC Sherlock fic at the moment) without people judging me. I wanted to write Ruby and Clancy being adorable idiots together. I think I only succeeded on the first point, since this isn't very coherent and I got them out of character, I think. -_- And since nobody has the first clue when the Ruby Redfort series is set (THEY HAVE TVS AND HIGH-TECH SHIT BUT THEY ALL TALK LIKE THEY'RE LIVING IN 1960 AND NO COMPUTERS?) I may have interrupted continuity a bit with a bunch of my references? Yes well there's a whole bunch of references to shit that I like and if you spot them kudos and a Glamburger to you. And I now really want to write a series with these two going around making clever deductions. Mmm.**

 **Fun fact: every time I wrote the word 'megalomania' in this fic, I began to hear the distinct sounds of Toby Fox music playing in the background. I think I'm going crazy please send help.**

* * *

"You're kidding," said Clancy Crew flatly, tapping his fingers distractedly against the table.

"Never."

"Prove it."

"Okay," Ruby grinned, and adjusted her glasses, looking out of the window. Her eyes narrowed in concentration, and then she pointed out into the street. "See that woman across the street?"

Clancy squinted. "You mean the one with the weird haircut and fluorescent green dress? What's up with that, anyway?"

"Some sort of fashion, Clance. I dunno. But she's heading over to the hospital later today, because her niece… no, hold on, _niece,_ is in hospital after doing something stupid. Not quite sure what. She doesn't like her much, she's only doing it as a favour or something- maybe to their folks or something. Oh yeah, and she owns three cats."

He turned, and stared at her for a moment. "You're making that up. There's no way you could know all _that_ from just looking at her."

"It's easy," she laughed. "See the luggage tag on her handbag? She's in from outside town, and she hasn't had enough time to take it off. Nobody comes into Twinford unless they've got a reason- and there's no festivals or events on this month, so that's not the reason. So, at a guess, she's here to visit family. But she doesn't look happy to be here, does she?"

Clancy nodded. "Okay, that works. But what about the rest of it?"

"Oh, right, the niece in hospital? That would be Red. She hasn't been at school lately, has she?"

"Right," he agreed, catching on. "She probably slipped in the hallway or something. And she's always complaining about that aunt of hers. Nice one, Rube. How about the cats?"

Ruby leaned back in her chair smugly. "Three different types of fur all over that lovely green fluorescent dress of hers. Look, you can see it if you squint."

"Nice one," Clancy said again. "So this is the sort of thing that they've been teaching you at your secret spy agency?"

"Actually, it's a thing that I've been teaching myself," Ruby confided. "A book I found somewhere on my shelves- _The Science of Deduction._ It's an interesting read. You might like it." She bit her lip. "It's all about looking at the tiny details, and being logical," she explained, and then pointed at a man standing across the road at the bus stop, who had the words ' _Your village called. They want their idiot back_ ,' printed across his shirt. She indicated him with a flip of her hand. "You try."

Clancy leaned forwards, and regarded him. "Okay… he's, what, in his thirties, and he's still wearing a T-shirt with a catchy logo on it. Mid-life crisis, do you think?"

"Could be. Go on."

Clancy bit his lip. "Um. He's limping slightly on his left leg… which probably happened because of…" He cast his eyes around for a moment, and then noticed a set of skid marks on the road. Looking quickly back to the man, he saw mud on his shoes that corresponded with the dirty sludge all over the road. "He nearly got hit by a car?"

Ruby grinned and flashed him a thumbs-up. "You got it."

"You're still better at this than me," he complained mildly, fiddling with a plastic fork.

"Well, I've been at it for two more hours than you have," she pointed out reasonably. "And you haven't even read the book yet."

"Good point," he conceded, and they both turned together as the woman working at the counter came over, balancing two large chocolate-cherry milkshakes on a tray.

"Aw, thanks," Ruby said cheerfully as the woman placed one of the glasses in front of her. "You're a lifesaver, you know that?"

"You're the one paying," replied Marla, but smiled anyway. "You kids enjoy your drinks."

"We will," Clancy assured her, having already pulled out a straw from the rack and placed it into his drink.

"Oh, and by the way," Ruby said, just as Marla was about to leave. "Tell your husband happy birthday from me."

Marla looked briefly puzzled. "How on Earth did you know-"

"Ticket in your pocket to a boxing match, no offence Marla, but you don't seem much like a boxing type of person to me," said Ruby quickly but triumphantly. "You're wearing your wedding ring, which you don't usually do, so it's probably a special occasion. And, well, the rest is easy."

The waitress still looked a bit confused, but broke out into a smile. "Well, you're a regular little Sherlock Holmes, aren't you? I'll definitely give him a happy birthday from you- he'll laugh ever so much when I tell him all about this!"

"He'll love the icecream cake, I'm sure," Ruby called after her.

Clancy rolled his eyes. "Right," he said. "How did you know _that?_ "

Ruby beamed. "Marla makes the best ice cream cakes around."

"Of course she does," sighed Clancy, and pointed across the café to a group of eighteen-year old girls who were chattering and giggling. "Right, let's try someone else."

Ruby glanced over her glasses and took a sip from her drink. "I've got this one. They all live in South Twinford."

"Because of their jackets, right?"

"Exactly- it's been windy all week there, but not a gust in this part of town."

"The blonde girl thinks that her friends don't like her," Clancy said after a moment of consideration. "She keeps biting at her nails, and she's overdressed for someone who's just going for a soda with her friends- she's trying to impress them."

"Yeah, but is she right?" Ruby asked, and her eyes narrowed. "Hm… so, there's four of them, but she's the only one on that side of the table, which means the other three are trying, maybe intentionally, to ostracize her."

"But the one with the pink hairband keeps laughing a lot at everything Blonde Hair says, so maybe they're, um, best friends or something?"

"No, that's not right," Ruby said with a frown. "Pink Hairband is wearing clothes the same brand and style as Blonde Hair is, but they're cheaper and a bit older. So she's either idolizing her, or has a massive crush on her."

Clancy glanced down. "Definitely a crush, she's wearing sandals today and she keeps trying to brush her feet up against the blonde one."

"The other two don't like Pink Hairband at all, but they're just barely tolerating her for the sake of Blonde Hair, who they only vaguely like," Ruby concluded. "This friendship won't go well." She took one last look, and grinned. "And they're cheating on their boyfriends. With each other's boyfriends."

"How d'you figure that?"

"They keep shooting each other triumphant glances when they think the other's not looking, and the jewellery that they're wearing would be better suited to the other person."

"That's a really weird love triangle."

"More like love bisected hexagon. I've got a feeling all four of them are involved, somehow."

"Well, you're the expert."

"You're not too bad at this, either," Ruby said. "Come on, let's do someone else."

They went back and forth like this for almost fifteen minutes, pointing at random people and pulling facts from what they could see and observe.

"Hey, Clancy," said Ruby after a while. "Here's a new challenge. What would you deduce about somebody who was, hypothetically, lurking behind you with a sour expression on their face?"

He gave her an odd look. "Well… they probably have a grudge against me or whoever I'm with. And if they're _lurking,_ that probably means that they're, well… afraid? Afraid of talking to me for some reason."

Ruby nodded seriously. "Right. And what if they're wearing very strong perfume? What does that tell you about their character?"

"Female," he said instantly, and Ruby rolled her eyes. "Wants to make a point, or announce their presence, or maybe-" he breathed in deeply, and wrinkled his nose. "That's lavender. Um."

"Symbolizes grace and elegance," Ruby volunteered obligingly.

"Overcompensation," Clancy suggested.

"Or a need for power where there isn't one."

"So, basically, a classic case of megalomania."

"Basically, yeah."

The smell of lavender somehow became even more pronounced, like the person wearing it had flipped their hair sulkily.

"She wears too much makeup," Ruby announced suddenly, like it had just occurred to her.

"How'd you work that one out?"

"The grace and elegance thing again. Trying to live up to the meaning of the smell, probably subconsciously."

"You're both freaks," said the person behind them loudly and moodily. It was, of course, Vapona Bugwell, armed with a sour expression and equally sour attitude.

"Charming," Ruby muttered, and finished her milkshake with an echoing slurp.

"I'm going to take that as confirmation that we're right," Clancy suggested, and chanced a glance behind him.

"Crawl into a hole and die, Crew," snapped Vapona.

"Ah, the smell of megalomania in the afternoon," sighed Ruby. "Stinks of overcompensation, doesn't it?"

"And lavender," agreed Clancy. "I prefer cinnamon, myself."

"Have you tried cinnamon pie?" Ruby asked. "Mrs Digby makes an excellent cinnamon pie; you should come over and try it sometime."

"Mrs Digby deserves a medal," said Clancy with a roll of his eyes. "I've never had a proper cinnamon pie- they always end up tasting of butterscotch."

"Mm, butterscotch-cinnamon, sounds amazing- we should try cooking our own pie sometime."

"I'm a terrible cook. Don't let me anywhere near your kitchen."

"Really? I never would have guessed… I'll have to give you lessons, then. And _then_ we can make pie."

"Excellent plan."

"Are you two even paying _attention_ to me?" Vapona practically screeched.

Ruby considered, glancing over her shoulder.

"Not really," she said, turning back to Clancy. "You know, with that sort of attitude, you're never going to get anybody to listen to you."

Vapona huffed, and began the process of stomping away in a small-scale fit of rage.

"Oh, and by the way, you're planning on skipping school tomorrow and pretending that you're sick," Clancy called. Vapona froze, with an almost comical expression on her face. "Don't worry, I'm not going to tell anyone." He paused, and grinned. "Well, maybe not."

She walked off rather stiffly, in the manner of one who's trying very hard not to run but isn't succeeding that well, her mouth tight and fists clenched.

Ruby looked at Clancy, and raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Educated guess," he explained. "She's always planning on skipping school, and that bag she's carrying has three seasons of _Pretty Little Liars_ in it."

Ruby grinned. "There we go. Looks like two hours doesn't really make a difference, you're just as good at this as I am."

Clancy looked down at his half-finished chocolate-cherry milkshake- Ruby always drank hers far too fast, and took a long slip, smacking his lips. "We can start a private detective agency when we're older and go around solving crimes," he suggested. "Like on _Crazy Cops._ "

"'Redfort and Crew'," said Ruby. "Sounds like a building firm." She smiled. "Let's go for it. We'll be consulting detectives to the police."

"The police won't be able to stand us, but they'll call us in anyway, because nobody else will be able to solve the murders."

Ruby looked out onto the street, surveying an imaginary crime scene. She frowned as if she was considering a particularly hard case. "What we've got here is a murderer who's cleverly disguised all of his killings as a string of weird suicides."

"It's obvious to see," agreed Clancy seriously, playing along. "She couldn't have possibly killed herself, because the wedding ring on her finger has been taken on and off far too many times during the last week- she's been planning on divorcing, which gives her no obvious reason for attempted suicide."

"And her coat's missing," added Ruby. "She wouldn't be going without it, it's been cold this week- there must be evidence on it that the murderer wanted to hide."

Clancy glanced around the café. "He's the killer," he decided, jabbing a finger at a man reading the newspaper on the other side of the room.

"Why?"

"He's got shifty eyes."

"Fair enough."


End file.
